


Going Home

by Eldabe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 11:31:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eldabe/pseuds/Eldabe
Summary: "There is nothing more that can be done here," Draco said firmly. "I am taking my wife home."





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> The marble tile floors in the entry hall are completely borrowed from Ekaterin's modifications of [Vorkosigan House](http://vorkosigan.wikia.com/wiki/Vorkosigan_House_\(Vorbarr_Sultana\)) in the [Vorkosigan Saga](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vorkosigan_Saga) by Lois McMaster Bujold. (Which is brilliant, you should read it.)
> 
> With thanks to [Shoshanaisabelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoshanaisabelle/pseuds/shoshanaisabelle%22), whose support, beta help, and friendship have been invaluable to me in this fandom. All remaining mistakes are my own.

"There's nothing else you can do?" Draco asked. His voice was steady. This was not a surprise. This was something they had expected, together, for over a decade.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Malfoy," the Healer said, "at this point we can only make her comfortable." 

Draco nodded, and stood. Healer Rophenus scrambled up as well. 

"Thank you," Draco said absently, his mind already on the next steps. Astoria was too weak for the Floo, but Draco had parked the family automobile outside St. Mungo's weeks ago, the last time he brought Astoria. It would have to be enough. 

When Draco went into her room, he remembered again the first time he had seen her in St. Mungo's, all those years ago. They hadn't known then how she was already living on borrowed time. The Healers were still trying to find a diagnosis. There was still hope.

Now Astoria was propped up against the pillows, her eyes barely open, face turned towards Scorpius. Scorpius was hunched over his summer homework, editing his Transfiguration essay again, by the look of it. His chair was so close to Astoria's bed that his knees were digging into the mattress, leaving bare inches between the two of them. Scorpius was explaining his changes to his mother as he went through them, even though she was probably too far gone to track his complicated ramblings. 

Scorpius scratched out a line in the essay. "I think that was a too simple a way to describe animal transfiguration. It's really about a deeper understanding of states of _being_, I think, Mum." 

Draco came in the room, and put one hand on Scorpius' shoulder. Scorpius jumped and looked up at him. 

"Dad?" 

"Gather your things, Scorpius," Draco said. Scorpius hesitated, before rolling up his parchment. Draco went past him to the bed, leaning over and cupping Astoria's cheek carefully. 

Astoria stirred, her eyes opening wider and focusing on Draco's face. She smiled as her gaze fixed on him. It was a reflex that still ripped through Draco's heart, after all these years. 

"Draco?" Her voice was a whisper. 

"We're going home, Astoria," Draco said. She nodded against his palm, and let out a sigh as her eyes fluttered closed. 

Scorpius gave a squeak behind him. In the past, going home was a sign that Astoria was doing better. But Scorpius had been prepared for Astoria's death the whole summer, from the moment his Aunt Daphne had picked him up from the platform at King's Cross. Draco, however, had been preparing for _this_ moment, stocking up on pain potions, contacting Healers and Mediwizards who would come by the house and discussing options with the house-elves. 

Scorpius got up to pack his books into his satchel, and Draco moved Scorpius' chair to position himself next to Astoria. He had nothing of importance in this room besides his family, and he could use his wand to start the car if he couldn't find his keys. 

Draco leaned over the bed and tucked the blanket around Astoria. The blanket was from home, a soft brown woolen heirloom brought from Astoria’s parents’ house to their first flat. Draco reached underneath and lifted her into his arms, blanket and all. She was so light, her skin sagging, wasting away a little bit at a time. 

Draco adjusted his grip so her head could rest against his shoulder. Scorpius came up beside him, clutching his satchel and watching Draco with big eyes. 

"The car is downstairs, Scorpius," Draco said gently. "I think that might be best."

Scorpius nodded, and they stepped into the hall together. 

"Mr. Malfoy, I really think-" Healer Rophenus had gathered a crowd of Healers, Mediwizards and Mediwitches. They were all watching him, and Draco recognised most of them from Astoria's last long stay in hospital. 

"There is nothing more that can be done here," Draco said firmly. "I am taking my wife home." 

Scorpius followed him to the automobile and helped him settle Astoria in the backseat, which had been modified for comfort when Draco first bought the car, before they even imagined they might risk having Scorpius. Before, when they only thought of the fun it would be to have a car with a magical bed instead of a backseat. 

Scorpius settled in the front, his arms wrapped around his satchel as Draco cast charms so he wouldn’t accidentally hit a Muggle car or attract notice from the Muggle law enforcement. Scorpius was silent, craning his neck every few minutes to look at Astoria and then at Draco and then back at the road. 

Draco hated the silence. He and Astoria had played with the Muggle wireless when Scorpius was small, laughing at the funny words and gaping at some of the foul language in the songs together. But with Astoria sleeping, Draco didn't want to fill the space with the harsh sounds. 

Scorpius played with the strap on his satchel, tugging at the sleeves of his robes absently. Draco cleared his throat. 

"We are taking your mother home," he said awkwardly, "so she can be comfortable in her own bed when-when she-". Draco couldn't finish the sentence. 

"I understand, Dad," Scorpius said. His voice didn't quite crack, but he sounded so young to Draco. He was only thirteen. That was far too young to lose his mother. 

Draco forced down all of it. He would have time to deal with it later. After. 

Draco encouraged Scorpius to talk about his Transfiguration essay, but Scorpius was distracted and nervous. Draco didn't point out when Scorpius’ thoughts drifted in the middle of sentences. By the time they reached Wiltshire, Draco stopped forcing conversation and let Scorpius lapse into silence, clutching his satchel close. 

As Draco crossed the line into the Malfoy lands, he started to increase his speed, faster than the Muggle speed limit. He passed the village below at high speed, and turned through the gates to the manor before slowing down to stop at the front of the house gently. Normally he would pull to the carriage house, and in better days they would walk from there into the manor together, making suggestions of new charms they could try on the automobile and Scorpius talking about all the things he had seen on the ride. 

Now Draco didn't care where he left the car as he carried Astoria carefully up the stairs to the front doors which swung open to greet him. Scorpius clung to his side uncertainly. Draco strode through the entry hall, which was still bright with the waning sunshine. His shoes clicked against the colourful tile floor that Astoria had designed, which they had installed together the week after his parents moved out. 

Draco walked up the stairs slowly, adjusting his grip on Astoria as he went. She didn't shift, but he was terrified of dropping her down the wide, winding staircase. It would be safer, probably, to use a _Mobilicorpus_ on the stairs, but Draco stubbornly did not want to let go. The warmth of her skin through his robes and the feeling of her soft breaths were small physical reminders that she was still here with him and Scorpius. Each moment was a gift he would not sacrifice. 

Scorpius scrambled ahead of him down the hall and opened to door to Draco and Astoria's rooms. Draco walked through the reception room, passing the satchel Scorpius had dropped on his way to the bedroom. 

Draco had not been home for a proper night's sleep in over a month, but Tinny kept the room dust-free and the bed neat. The lights flickered on as Draco entered and Scorpius pulled down the blankets on Astoria's side of the bed. Draco lay her down, still wrapped in the quilt. He fussed over the quilt, pillows and blankets, tucking in the corners of the blanket again around Astoria. The house wasn't overly cool, Draco having adjusted the charms when Astoria grew more sensitive to the cold. Now it was a bit hot for Draco's robes. Draco ran one hand over his face to wipe away sweat, and was startled to have his hand come away with tears as well. Scorpius' hands were hidden in the folds of his own robes. He looked small and uncertain, kneeling on the other side of Astoria in the vast bed. 

Draco motioned for him to come around from the other side of the bed, and Scorpius' movement shifted the weight of the mattress enough so that Astoria stirred. Draco knelt by her side and Scorpius hurried around to hover next to him. Astoria looked at them both. 

"My boys," she murmured, a smile ghosting across her face before she drifted off again. Draco kissed her forehead and Scorpius kissed her cheek before Draco cast a supervision charm and went downstairs. The supervision ball glowed a pale blue, bouncing behind him in contrast to Scorpius, who seemed muted in comparison as he slowly trailed Draco. 

Draco stopped in the hall. The light coming through the windows was slowly turning orange, changing the colouring of the tiles. The mosaic was in a Greek pattern Astoria had modified. It looked like a small forest was creeping across the floor; flutterby bushes moving in a tiled breeze, a venomous tentacula twisting along the edge to curl harmlessly beneath people's feet. Baby mandrake roots toddled in two dimensions, their leaves swaying as they walked. 

The mosaic was filled with flowers which bloomed out of season, bursting with colour. Scorpius was still small when they had started the tiling and they had given him his own corner. There the tiles formed their own abstract colourful blur, a child's attempt at flowers, cheerfully blending with the rest. 

It was a small thing in the tale of Astoria's life, just one hall which she had turned from an imposing space into a playful entryway. Draco wondered if he would ever be able to walk across it again without falling apart inside. He hurried through the hallway to the drawing room.

Scorpius trailed after him, dragging his feet across the tiles as they plants curled beneath his steps and followed him down the hall. Draco found himself unable to stop his right hand from twisting his wedding ring. 

"Scorpius," Draco said, when they were both sitting by the unlit fireplace. "Your mother-the Healers said-"

He still couldn't say it. Astoria had always been fierce about using the real words. "I'm going _die_" she told Draco "and I'm not coming back as a ghost so we need to make the right plans _now_." 

That's why they were ready. When Astoria was well they had written wills, established trusts, even expanded the Floo to make it easier for more Mediwizards to come in a few at a time. They had a Medinurse on call, and Draco had an account with an apothecary and a fully-stocked brewing room for any necessary potions. Draco had bought books and memorised spells and practiced them with feverish intensity. Astoria had detailed the plans for her funeral, regularly updated every year when Scorpius left for school. 

And he still wasn't ready. 

Draco took a deep breath and Scorpius started to cry. Draco was startled into rising from his chair, moving towards Scorpius, helpless. 

"I'm sorry," Scorpius sobbed, "I know you said-but I-I'm sorry." 

"Don't apologize," Draco said, suddenly fierce, "you don't ever have to apologise for how you feel." 

Scorpius nodded, but he was already taking deep breaths to try to control himself. Draco reached down and grasped Scorpius' shoulder, trying to let his own emotions show. Scorpius didn't deserve to feel like his own feelings were shameful or forbidden in any way. Draco wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the next few weeks, and he could not imagine what it must be like for Scorpius. Scorpius was not to think that he had to suppress his feelings. 

"Scorpius," he said firmly, and Scorpius looked up at him, frantically blinking away tears. "This is- this is going to be a difficult time, for both of us. Your mother is-she is-" _I'm going to die, Draco, I'm dying, use the real words._ "She's going to leave us," Draco said finally, still unable to form the words. "And that's very...painful." Draco heard his voice crack. And he realised with a start that he was crying again, tears sliding from the corners of his eyes. 

Scorpius stopped actively sobbing.Draco supposed he was too surprised at seeing his father cry. Draco hadn't cried in front of Scorpius since Scorpius was newly born, still overwhelmed by the weight of what he and Astoria had both done. He had been terrified, even then, of scarring Scorpius. 

Now it almost didn't seem to matter. What were a few tears to the scars of losing Astoria? 

"Dad?" Scorpius asked, hesitant. Draco opened his arms and Scorpius fell into them. Draco pulled him close. They never told Scorpius about the fights they had, the two of them, over having a child. Draco had been so opposed, terrified of losing even one more day with Astoria for some baby he couldn't imagine. The Healers could never give them anything so precise as a number of days, or even months, that Astoria had traded for Scorpius. But now, Draco couldn't conceive of life without Scorpius' bright voice and endless curiosity. Astoria had been right, all those years ago. Scorpius was the greatest gift of their lives, for both of them, and sometimes Draco feared that all they gave him back was pain. 

"You are allowed to cry," Draco said, his own tears sliding down his chin into Scorpius' hair. "You are allowed to cry, and you are allowed to be angry, and you can feel or do whatever you want. It's not fair, Scorpius, not to you or your mum." 

Draco reached up to wipe his face again. He was going to need a handkerchief in a minute, but he could feel Scorpius shaking again and he was not going to lose this moment. The older Scorpius grew, the harder it became for Draco to connect with him in a way that felt authentic. They had never hid Draco's past from Scorpius, but they had also protected him carefully from the bigotry that still hummed among their social peers. It meant Scorpius found Draco's past bewildering and alien. 

The knowledge would protect Scorpius, Draco and Astoria had agreed. It would give him a small measure of safety in the modern wizarding world, but it opened a gulf of issues between them. Soon they would not have Astoria to bridge it for them and the prospect was terrifying. It constricted Draco's heart, even as it was breaking from the thought of Astoria fading upstairs. 

"You're allowed," Draco repeated. He could feel Scorpius' hands curl in his robes, and Draco felt himself fall into despair. He reached one hand up to cup the back of Scorpius' head and closed his eyes, feeling the tears gather in his eyelashes. They would have to get through this, together, somehow. There was no other choice anymore.


End file.
